Liberate Me (Shatter Me Fanfic)

Chapter1

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS OR ANYTHING FROM SHATTER ME. ALL RIGHTS GO TO TAHEREH MAFI.

I look down into Juliette's eyes, bright shining up at me. There is a fire behind those eyes. A determination to rebel against everything I have in mind. I allow her to have decent food for the first time in a long time, but she won't accept even this gift. Now I outstretch my newest gift, a new outfit. I know she will not like it, but I can't deny the pleasure of getting under her skin. I clear my throat, bringing her eyes back to mine.

"I got you something."

I can't stop from grinning at her as she lets out a huff of frustration, "Over my dead body. I will not wear these exposing clothes you pick out for me." The disgust was evident in her voice, almost palpable. There was something else though, an undeniable curiosity within her. I'm very good at reading people, but there is something about this girl that puzzles me. I cock my head at her, stretching out the tank top and shorts. "I don't think you have a choice in the matter, love."

"Listen, I am not some trophy you can show off in those skanky clothes." She is probably referring to when I demonstrated her power to all my men by having her touch one of them, or when I brought her onto my balcony before everyone. Nonetheless, she is truly my greatest prize.

I took a step closer to her and leaned down next to her ear whispering, "No you listen love, you can either put these on yourself, or I could have one of my men put them on for you." Being this close to her is electrifying. The energy between us is so apparent to me. I feel her strength somehow, it practically rolls of her. Though at the moment I know she is afraid, afraid of the touch of another human being. The close proximity between us and the implication of my words is enough to get her blood boiling. She yanks the clothes from my hand, carefully taking hold of the portion of the fabric that is furthest away from my touch. She has always been that way, a beautiful mix of courage and caution. She turns on her heel and takes a step towards the bathroom before I stop her with my hand carefully on the fabric covering her shoulder. She stops mid-step, so unfamiliar with human touch. I could almost laugh at the irony, she, never being able to be touched on her skin, and I, seemingly unable to be touched by anyone else's words or feelings. Yet we have each torn each other's walls down. I have probably touched her more than any other person in my life, probably hers too. I always use gloves or touch her clothes, but the electricity still flows. No matter how much she may deny it, I know she feels it too. On top of that, she has somehow found a way into my heart. Everything about her I find beautiful. Thoughts of her consume me as I try to sleep, as I try to think, and especially now, when she is right in front of me. For a moment I am lost in thought and forget why I have stopped her. Before long I regain my composure, "you will be joining me later so I can show you the rest of the building. You will be on your best behavior." She nods, yes, and I feel a slight tremble run through her at the unexpected touch before I remove my arm, dismissing her, and turn to the soldier stationed by the door. "Kent," He nods, "I need you to make sure she is fully dressed in one hour."

"Yes sir."

I nod and walk out of the room. Kent, it seems, was born to be a soldier. He has absolutely no emotion other than obediently following orders.